


Santa Hat and a Smile

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Christmas, Christmas Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Surprises, Top Greg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 12:04:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3067184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was not what Greg expected when he walked in the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Santa Hat and a Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DestinedForJohnlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinedForJohnlock/gifts).



Greg Lestrade sighed as he unlocked his door. First Christmas without the wife or daughter. Of course she'd taken their girl and gone on holiday. Heaven forbid Greg see his only child at Christmas. He hadn't even bothered with a tree or decorations, though at least one Christmas ornament had mysteriously ended up on his desk at the Yard. Sally was his main suspect in that action.

So when he opened up the door to his miserable little flat the last thing he expected was to find Sherlock Holmes standing in front of a perfectly decorated Christmas tree in little more than a Santa hat and a smile.

"Sherlock? What's all this?" Greg shook his head and closed the door. 

"Christmas Eve, obvious," Sherlock looked at him and held a stocking over a strategic location on his body. 

Greg shook his head and smiled. "Didn't think you really celebrated the holiday."

"I was raised in a household that was at least superficially Christian." Sherlock turned to hang up the stocking. "And given that this is your first Christmas without your ex-wife or child, I determined you were not making an attempt to celebrate."

“Did you always decorate for the holiday in the nude?” Greg immediately wished he hadn’t asked as an image sprung to mind.

Sherlock scoffed. “I was caught in a squall earlier and my clothes were soaked. Besides, I deduced that you would appreciate the view.”

Greg smiled. “Well, you aren’t wrong.” He moved to Sherlock and drew him into a gentle kiss. “Thank you.”

Sherlock blushed, just a little. “You’re welcome,” he said softly.

Greg turned to hang up his coat before sitting in his favorite chair and drawing Sherlock into his lap and tilting his chin to kiss him deeper. The younger man wrapped his arms around Greg’s neck and kissed him back.

Holding him a little closer, Greg reflected on how glad he was that Sherlock Holmes had crashed into his life. The man was mad and brilliant and more than a little bit of a pain in the arse. But he also kept him from feeling too sorry for himself, kept him on his toes and made him feel years younger in bed. The pale skin under his hands was soft and smelled of the evergreen tree. Greg wrapped his arms around him and stood, picking him up and laying him down on the sofa.

With a rare trusting smile, the pale eyes watched him as he stripped off his own clothes. The lights of the tree twinkled in the dim light, casting an ethereal glow to the room. Greg gave a short kiss to Sherlock’s forehead and stood to go get the lube.

“It’s on the mantel,” said Sherlock, spreading his legs. “And I already prepared myself.”

Greg grabbed it and came back. “You did?” He smoothed a hand down one thigh. “So did you do that before or after you handled all the ornaments?”

Sherlock smirked at him and pulled him down for another kiss, slow and tender. Greg got the bottle open and gave himself a few strokes, moaning and tasting the hint of peppermint. Sherlock had probably eaten half the candy canes that weren’t on the tree. 

“Evergreen and peppermint,” said Greg, folding Sherlock’s legs and settling between his thighs. “You are my very own personal Christmas.”

Sherlock leaned up to kiss him again. “You taste like coffee and smell like the Yard. Which is growing to be much like home to me.”

Greg stopped and stared at him, running a hand through his hair as his heart skipped. He knew he was falling for him, it was a relief to know that perhaps it wasn’t one sided. Sherlock kissed him one more time before he could speak, guiding him inside. Greg moaned against him and sunk into the willing body, Sherlock locking his feet around him.

They moved slowly together, Greg kissing him deeply as he moved inside of his young lover. Sherlock’s hands roamed his back and toyed with hairs on the nape of his neck. There was no need to hurry through this; their passion was a slow growing ember, not a bonfire. Something that would last far longer than one late Christmas night.

Slowly, Sherlock’s hand came down and he started stroking himself off. Greg watched the pleasure dance across his face, the pale eyes shuttering and squeezing tightly shut. “That’s right, gorgeous,” he whispered. Dark curls shook against the sofa, tiny cries falling like silver tinsel as Greg shifted his hips to find that sweet spot inside of him.

Sherlock arched up against Greg, the inspector leaned in to worship his throat and suck a mark just where it would be hidden by the scarf. But Greg would know and Sherlock would know and the thought made Sherlock come, still quiet as it spilled across his stomach.

Kneeling back, Greg, shifted him more into his lap and held his thighs, chasing his own release. It didn’t take long, not with the way Sherlock squeezed around him, breathless, the thinnest sheen of sweat on his chest.

Panting, Greg leaned back down to kiss Sherlock’s forehead and smiled against his skin, heart much lighter than when he’d walked in the door. Sherlock fondled the nape of his neck again with one hand, the other running through the hair on Greg’s chest. They stayed like that for long moments, neither willing to separate from the other, even to clean up.

It was Greg that finally moved, carefully pulling out of his lover. “Come on, shower. Then tea.”

“I did bring over hot chocolate,” said Sherlock, accepting his help up.

“Ever melt a candy cane in a cup of hot cocoa?” asked Greg.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “I would imagine the melting point would be sufficient.”

“It’s also delicious. Come on.” Greg stole a kiss in the highway, glad that when he woke up on Christmas morning it would be with this man tangled up in his sheets beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
